


i need me around you

by longhairandbarefeet



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, F/M, Goodbyes, Tension, Through the Years, show verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 00:56:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11703432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longhairandbarefeet/pseuds/longhairandbarefeet
Summary: They’ve never been very good at saying goodbye to each other....





	i need me around you

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'd, all mistakes are my own!

They’ve never been very good at saying goodbye to each other. The first farewell, the one before everything broke apart into a million pieces, was so long ago. 

 

Sansa still remembers the sound of the snow that was falling outside her window, and the image of Lady curled up at the foot of her bed. She was busy packing her trunks for King’s Landing, making sure to carefully fold her dresses so they wouldn’t get wrinkled. Septa would have scolded her if everything wasn’t neat.

 

“Sansa—” a quiet voice from behind her closed door had whispered. She may not have conversed with him very often when they were children, but she could have spotted Jon’s solemn voice anywhere. 

 

“Come on in.” Sansa called out, and she watched him as he slowly creaked open the door, careful not to see something he shouldn’t. She returned to packing her suitcases, and waited for him to speak. He looked as he always had, messy black curls, big doe eyes, and a rueful expression. 

 

He was silent for a few moments, and Sansa looked up, noticed he was staring at her and she let out a half chuckle. “Were you looking for Arya?” She asked simply. 

 

It occurred to her that Jon probably wanted to see their little sister, it made sense that he’d want to spend as much time with her before she left for King’s Landing. 

 

“I’m here to see you.” 

 

“Oh?” 

 

Jon nodded, and he averted his eyes. She didn’t know why he wouldn’t look at her, it worried her, made her think Bran took a turn for the worse, and Jon was here to break the news. “I wanted to say goodbye.” She let out a sigh of relief.

 

“Goodbye?” Sansa says a bit dismissively. “We don’t leave until tomorrow.” She knew there wasn’t a special bond shared between them, knew that a simple goodbye in the courtyard would’ve sufficed.

 

“Aye,” He replied abruptly, and Sansa stopped her busy hands to look up at him. He sounded so much like father, and whenever he did she found herself immobile. It didn’t help that he looked so much like father either. “I leave today.” 

 

“Where are you going?” 

 

“I leave for the Wall.” Jon said, his voice shaking. He was nervous, and she remembered the scary stories Old Nan used to tell them about the horrible things that lived beyond the Wall. She used to have nightmares for days from them. 

 

Sansa preferred the romantic tales. 

 

“Oh.” Sansa replied, looking at him. He kept his eyes to the floorboards, and she wondered if he were forcing the stoic expression on his face so he wouldn’t look weak in front of her. She didn’t know what to do next or say, not sure if anything coming from her mouth would’ve sounded believable. Sansa didn’t hug him, and she hadn’t since she learned what bastard meant. She wouldn’t tell him that she’d miss him because she didn’t think that that would be true either. 

 

He turned to leave, the discomfort thick in the air between them. 

 

“Jon!” Sansa called, and he turned to look back at her. “I’ll send you letters, tell you everything about the Capital. I'll send all the warmth I can.” 

 

He smiled. “I’ll watch for your ravens.” 

 

+

 

The second farewell was years later, but they were no wiser.

 

She had thought in those moments they were.

 

“You’ve come to yell at me again?” Jon said, his eyes tired as he rubbed them. She was waiting for him in his chambers as he met with Ser Davos, finalizing his travel plans to Dragonstone. She sat at the small table beside the fireplace, and she laid her needlework to the side when she noticed his presence. 

 

“I have not,” Sansa smiled and looked down at her hands, they sat twisting anxiously in her lap. She felt nostalgic, remembering their goodbye in her bedroom. The hopefulness for the future, the timid smiles they shared, and the empty promise she had made. “I’ve come to bid you farewell.” 

 

“I don’t leave until tomorrow, Sansa.” Jon said walking over to her with his eyebrows furrowed. “You should get some rest, and I really must pack.” 

 

“Do you remember when we first said goodbye?” Sansa asked, ignoring him and his suggestion. He ran a hand across his face, and nodded slowly. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

 

“You said you’d write to me.” Jon said. 

 

“I said lots of things then.” Sansa whispered as she straightened her shoulders and maintained eye contact. She always wondered if he was intrigued by her intentional vagueness, but he never asked questions. They sat for almost every meal together, had late night conversations about their missed childhood, and she even got to hear stories from his time at the Wall, but he never pressed information about Joffrey or Ramsey. 

 

“What can I do, Sansa?” Jon asked, and they both knew it was a loaded question. 

 

“You can,” Sansa paused, and she stood up from her chair to wrap her arms around him. He reacted immediately, just like he had when they were reunited. She pressed her face into his shoulder, trying hard to memorize his smell, the warmth of his body, and the feel of his arms around her. “Just, come home.” 

 

“You’ll hardly notice my absence.” Jon said as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She had closed her eyes at the contact because she liked the way the scruff of his beard brushed across her forehead. 

 

+

 

The third farewell, the hardest one, came just before the final battle.

 

He had returned to Winterfell a fortnight ago, and she felt as if they had started all over again. He spent most of his time with Arya sparring in the courtyard, with Bran sitting by the Heart Tree, or with the elusive Dragon Queen in every other instance throughout the day. 

 

Sansa managed up until then to pretend his avoidance didn’t bother her, but when Arya mentioned that they were all leaving at first light, she felt it was the final straw. She rushed through the halls, and when she reached his door she banged her fist so hard she was sure she would get a bruise or two. 

 

He opened the door with his eyes wider than saucers, bags lying heavily beneath his eyes. She rolled her eyes, and glided past him. He closed the door behind her. “Sansa, what are you doing? You are going to wake up the entire castle.”

 

“I don’t care. I hope the bloody dragons heard me!” Sansa seethed. “Are you planning on leaving without saying goodbye to me?” Sansa had spent months composing her emotions, but she couldn’t stop the tears that formed and fell down her cheeks. 

 

“Sansa...” Jon started, squeezing his eyes shut tight. “I don’t - - I wish - - I want- - I - - I really don’t know what to say.” 

 

“Don’t say anything.” Sansa replied, pushing the tears away and wiping the remnants on her skirts. “It wouldn’t make it better anyways. I do hope you return safely, Jon Snow.” 

 

She turned to leave, already halfway out the door when he grabbed her wrist, and pulled her roughly against his chest. 

 

“Sansa,” Jon whispered with his mouth ghosting over hers, his breath tickling her lips. He pressed his hands to her face, and tilted her head so she could look at him. He stroked his thumbs across her cheeks, flushed from the sudden contact. “My sweet Sansa.” He had let out an unintentional sigh, his eyes were darkening in the firelight. 

 

“Why do you ignore me, Jon?” Sansa asked boldly, her body betraying her because she was responding to every touch he placed upon her skin.

 

“There is too much to say, to amend for, but I’ve no desire to ruin this moment with you.” 

 

“You leave for war tomorrow,” Sansa whispered, her hands were clutching tight to the fabric of his clothes. She wished she could be angry at him, mad he didn’t spend the days here trying to spend as much time with her in case he wouldn’t return, but she can’t bring herself to be. She wished to enjoy the moment now, even if it wouldn't last. “Why do you keep leaving me, Jon Snow?” 

 

Jon pressed his mouth to hers as an answer, and suddenly she felt like all the air in the room had gone. His lips were warm, the warmest thing she’d ever felt, and he tasted sweeter than anything she’d ever spoiled her appetite for. It was something she didn’t realize she was missing, but gods she’d been missing it for years. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Jon said as he pulled away from her, pressing his forehead against hers. “I have much to fear tomorrow, and the days after, but this scared me more than anything the Night King can do to me.” 

 

Sansa placed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, her hand running over the nape of his neck. “Just come home.” 

 

He nodded, pressing another kiss to her lips. “I will.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! let me know what you think and please come talk to me on tumblr!
> 
> youcancalllmequeenjane.tumblr.com


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